Coming Out Of The Closet
by Kaleidoscopic Panda Bear
Summary: When there was no response, Dash glanced down at the only other occupant of the closet. Danny looked bad. The ebony haired teen had his head leaned back on a shelf, his knees were propped up against his chest and his hands were pressed hard against the wound on his stomach. Danny's eyes were closed and his teeth were gritted against the pain. So much for being safe in the closet.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Danny couldn't believe that he had gotten himself into this situation. Well, technically _Phantom _was in this situation, but Dash Baxter didn't know the difference. And he never would, if Danny had any say in it. Which, you, know, he did.

"Fuck," he whispered silently when he realized he couldn't turn intangible. In the tiny closet space, Dash gave his hero a weird look. "You...cuss?" "Well, yeah! Wouldn't you if you were me right now?!" Phantom snapped back. He really wanted to give Dash a weird look of his own; the snarky, sarcastic side of him wanted to know exactly what Dash would do if the Jock ever found out that he had been beating up and shoving his 'hero' in random lockers for the past two years.

Danny never even considered it as a possibility, though, so he stopped thinking of himself as Danny and started thinking like Phantom. The vigilante hero, or whatever people were calling him now. Danny rolled his eyes in frustration as he tried to get himself out of his prone position again. Currently, he and Dash were trapped in a janitor's closet with a ghost Danny had never seen before stalking around the school.

He would normally just reach out, turn both himself and Dash intangible and escape, but as fate would have it, his hands were pinned above his head and a wound on his stomach bleeding sluggishly prevented him from doing so. If he tried to go intangible, he would surely faint and turn back into his human form. And Dash couldn't know. Not like this.

A grunt of surprise in the dark made Danny perk up again. "Hey, Phantom! I got free, do you need help?" He growled. Dash could be really stupid at times. "Yeah, just get my hands loose and I can get it from there." _'And be careful,' _he added silently, wincing as Dash crashed over something and yelp in surprise. The jock was anything but.

As Dash worked on getting his hands free, Danny tried not to think about how close their faces were. When Dash moved his wrist the wrong way, the halfa gasped in pain and bit his lip, hips accidentally bucking up as he tried to move it back out of the painful position. "Oh, sorry!" Dash theatrically whispered as Danny's lip began to bleed. The wound on his stomach gave a sharp pang as he settled down again.

"I-It's -ow- okay. Just, work faster," he muttered out, leaning his head back and closing his eyes. He could feel himself getting weaker. If the ghost found them, then...Well, Phantom didn't want to think about that. Finally, Dash managed to get the halfa's hands free and stepped back to give the ghost some space. Only, Phantom didn't move much.

One hand dropped back to his side and weakly pressed against the items holding him in the corner, and one hand pressed hard against his stomach. "Hey, Phantom. Are you alright?" Danny shook his head. He forgot, momentarily, that Dash was seeing the town superhero and not the 'loser' he bear up daily. This was getting hard(er).

"Hey, Dash," Phantom was cut off by a coughing fit, ignoring the fact that Dash was hanging off every word he said. "Can you keep a secret?" Even though the quarterback nodded his head eagerly, the injured halfa didn't quite believe him. He didn't have much of a choice, though, and as Danny gave up and gave in, the two blue-white rings of light roved over his figure, changing him back into his regular form.


	2. Chapter 2

"_**Hey, Dash," Phantom was cut off by a coughing fit, ignoring the fact that Dash was hanging off every word he said. "Can you keep a secret?" Even though the quarterback nodded his head eagerly, the injured halfa didn't quite believe him. He didn't have much of a choice, though, and as Danny gave up and gave in, the two blue-white rings of light roved over his figure, changing him back into his regular form. **_

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Danny didn't bother looking up to see the shocked expression on Dash's face; he knew it was there. "Fenton?!" Everything was still and silent for a few moments, Danny trying to muster the courage to look up and Dash trying to figure out what to say.

Turns out, he didn't really have to say anything. Dash simply maneuvered the items that kept Danny pinned to the wall away from him, and without the support, Danny pitched forward away from the corner. Dash caught him by the arm, the quarterback slowly lowering the injured halfa onto the cleared area of the floor. Still, nobody said a word.

Finally, "Fenton, I-" "Save it, Dash. Whatever you have to say, just save it." Danny wanted to say so many other things that it was almost painful to hold it all in. Things like, _'It should have been obvious,' _and _'This doesn't change anything,' _and _'Please don't tell anyone'. _Instead of arguing, Dash simply dropped back to his haunches, rubbing a hand through his short, blonde hair. It was a nervous habit that nobody really caught as nervous.

But Danny did; he just knew. He could read the bully like an open book and knew that the kid was sorry. Danny cleared his throat. "Dash, this seriously doesn't mean anything." Bright blue eyes flashed in anger as Dash sprang up. "How does this not _mean _anything?! Fenton, I've been wailing on my _hero _for the past _two years_! You could have done something to stop me- Anything, really. But you took all the shit I dealt out to you...Why?"

Danny just gave Dash a patient look, like a mother to a fuming child might. "Because, Dash. No one could have known. Still, nobody can know. You won't tell anyone, will you?" The quarterback looked offended that the halfa would even consider it, but then again, Dash could see where he was coming from. _Fuck._ "No. I won't rat you out, you can trust me," Dash mumbled weakly, running a hand over his face as he sighed.

When there was no response, the aggravated teen looked down at the only other occupant of the closet. Danny looked bad. The ebony haired teen had his head leaned back on a shelf, his knees were propped up against his chest and his hands were pressed hard against the wound on his stomach. Danny's eyes were closed and his teeth were gritted against the pain. _So much for being safe in the closet. _

Dash muttered unintelligibly under his breath, stepping in front of his scrawny companion and settling down so his knees were on either sides of Danny's hips. Dash shed his Letterman jacket, leaning forward and frowning as Danny flinched away. Looping the material over Danny's shoulders to cover the shaking teen, Dash pulled him forward again and waited until he received eye contact from the other male before speaking.

"I owe you big time, you understand that, right?" Danny looked confused for a few moments before simply narrowing his eyes at Dash. "What are you-" And he was cut off as his whole world was overtaken by too-fast, darkened movement. When he felt as if he could breathe without puking again, Danny cracked open an eye to glare up at Dash. Who was, incidentally, now carrying him bridal-style through the empty school halls. The whole school reminded him of a scary movie he and Tucker had just watched with Sam- what was it, Silent Hill, or something like that?

Danny was broken out of his reverie, though, when he heard the sound of a fight not too far away. Of course his parents had been called in to take care of it. _Of-fucking-course. _Danny sighed in irritation, a wisp of blue smoke rising out of his mouth. _'I know, I know,' _he thought miserably.

With each pounding step Dash took, the wound on his stomach twinged in pain and his head gave an aching throb. He really just wanted to die, but Dash didn't need to know that. It never occurred to Danny that maybe, Dash was trying to talk to him, but when the halfa finally tuned back in to the world of the living, Dash had a note of annoyance in his voice. "...won't answer me, then I'll just carry you right outside."


	3. Chapter 3

_**It never occurred to Danny that maybe, Dash was trying to talk to him, but when the halfa finally tuned back in to the world of the living, Dash had a note of annoyance in his voice. "...won't answer me, then I'll just carry you right outside." **_

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Danny had little time to protest. The dim sun was hitting his face with the wintery breeze, and snow sloshed underfoot as Dash made his way to the edge of the crowd that was the whole student body, plus a few staff. No one said anything directly to them, but there was a lot of pointing and whispering and even some giggles and sounds of anger.

Namely, the anger came from Sam and Tucker, who were fighting their way to the front of the crowd, towards them. "What the hell, Baxter! What did you do to him!" Sam screeched at the jock, ignoring Danny for the moment. For what it was worth, Dash looked honestly offended and hurt.

"He didn't do anything, Sam. It was my fault for being careless. And, anyway, he kind of maybe knows now..." Danny hunched up in Dash's arms as he spoke, as if the quarterback could protect him if Sam decided to throw a punch. As it happened to be, when Sam curled her fist at her side, Dash took a step back and gave her a dirty look.

"He's hurt enough, don't you think?" Dash muttered darkly, the glare not leaving his face. Nobody said anything for some time; Sam fuming and Tucker trying to be the ever loving peace-keeper. Dash was merely holding Danny, ignoring the world around them and wondering how he had gotten into this whole mess. Oh, right. The Phantom had asked him to keep a secret.

_Oh, right. Fenton _was _Phantom. _Something in Dash's brain shifted comfortably to let the knowledge settle, but the football player took it as a notion of, _'I'm fucked'. _And with the acceptance of the knowledge, came the thought of, _'Danny's hurt'. _Dash's head snapped down to look at Danny, whose wrists were bruising beautifully, stomach still bleeding sluggishly because of the gash there, but everything was covered by Dash's Letterman jacket.

Except for the halfa's face; his eyes were drooping heavily and a small line of blood streamed down his cheek from a shallow cut. On the other side, around his temple, was already a blackening and slightly swollen bruise resting there. His lip was torn and bloody, also. Panic mode ensued as Dash's body caught up with his mind; that scared Danny away from the edge of unconsciousness.

"Dash!" He squeaked when he felt the soaking snow seep through his jeans. Danny was cold enough without the element's help. "Shut up, Fenton. You're still bleeding and we need to get it to stop." That halted any and all complaints from Tucker, Sam _and _Danny. The Letterman jacket had fallen open on Danny's slim figure, giving Dash a clear view of the ever-growing blood stain spreading over the halfa's white shirt.

"Maybe it just looks worse than it really is?" Danny muttered through clenched teeth. The injured teen was shaking uncontrollably; maybe from the blood loss, maybe from the cold, Dash didn't know. "Heh. Yeah, right, dork. When do you ever have that kind of luck?" The response was automatic, and Dash pulled the jacket shut again so the wound wasn't out in the open.

His voice was calming, but his body was tense as he crouched in front of Danny. He held his hand out to the halfa, silently asking for a trembling hand to be placed in his. Sam and Tucker watched, open-mouthed, as Dash rolled the jacket's sleeve up with the utmost care. Holding Danny's hand in his, he quietly examined the bruised and swollen wrist.

"Can you move it at all?" The football player demonstrated with his own hand how he wanted Danny to move his, wincing as a loud crack and a yelp came out of the motion. "Well, it _was _dislocated..." Danny tried to pass off his pain with humorous tones, but Dash just shook his head. "What about the other one?"

Danny obediently held the offending limb out to Dash, watching -detached- as the other male slowly moved his wrist for him. "Any pain?" Danny shook his head no. Tugging the sleeve back down, Dash stood up and passed a hand through his hair again.

"Well, fuck," Sam finally muttered, irritated and cold. Tucker side-glanced at her and sighed. Just because his friends cussed didn't mean he agreed with it. "Dash, help me up. I think I need to get out of here," Danny's voice sounded strained, even to his own ears. And even as the quarterback turn to pull the halfa up, Danny had a sick look on his face.

"You gonna be good to walk?" Dash half whispered, half muttered under his breath. Danny took an unsteady breath in. "I dunno yet," he said while shrugging. "We're gonna find out, though."

Turns out, he wasn't. The first time Danny stumbled, he landed on his knees and insisted that he was okay, even though his head was spinning and his vision was dotted with black. The second time, he literally tripped over his own foot, but Dash had been ready for it. He caught Danny by the upper arm, stopping and pulling the smaller teen towards him.

"Look, Fenton. Either give me permission to carry you or bitch about it when I'm doing it anyway!" Dash finally snapped on him, watching as the halfa's face turned an interesting shade of red. "Yeah, sure. Whatever..." was the only mumbled response he got. And, without further incident, the pair managed to make it back to Dash's house with Tucker and Sam in tow.


End file.
